Under the tree of Dodona

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If I could see tomorrow,

know what the day would bring,

would I just stay sitting here,

under this talking , whispering oak,

or run all the way to Samara.

The rustling leaves,

whisper to me,

disturbing news of tomorrow,

or is it of possible tomorrows?

Why do oracles always speak in whispers,

or riddles,

or in the rustling of leaves.

Can’t we just tell the truth,

The truth is that we will all die,

no matter what the rustling leaves say,

or promise.

.

The only real question,

the last remaining true one,

is how do I live my life between now and then.

 

© words and picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

Thanksgiving

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Thanksgiving is the perfect time to give thanks, certainly for you health, your loved ones, your family. But also to give thanks in the larger term.  Think of all the foods on your menu today. Think of the farmers, the food processors, the factory laborers, the grocery store employees who all had something to do with getting that food to your table. Think of the people and perhaps artists or artisans involved in the plates, bowls, saucers that you will serve that food with. Think of a miner somewhere or growers who were involved in that salt and all of those other spices. Think of the food scientists and all of the other scientists and inventors involved in your  meal, and creating the technology to print that recipe book or to design and build the transportation system that will bring you or your guests wherever you or they are going,  We like to think of the holiday as individuals, yet that meal would not be possible without much of society working together to make it happen.

Lastly think of the fact that you are eating it, in the midst of “peace time”.  America is not actually at peace, and we have ongoing military actions across the world. We have men and women working today across the world to protect our country.  Some of our service members were able to make it home for the Holiday, Others are far from home serving our country. Some are eating far from home with friends or are being fed by others.

So when you sit and eat today, give Thanks, not just for the family members with you, but for all those others out there who literally helped you make that meal.

© words and picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

Thanksgiving: In our America

IMG_2680.JPG Will you have a real Thanksgiving this year?  To answer that you have to think for a bit about what the first Thanksgiving was.   It was a group of First Nations people, celebrating with a group of new immigrants from a land far across the ocean.  Of course they did not think of themselves as immigrants, but as people who would soon steal the land from the people they were eating with.  In a sense those first Pilgrim settlers were the reality of our worst immigrant fears. But before that happened, it was a group of disparate peoples coming together to break bread.  Strangers from different cultures eating together in celebration.  So forget the later genocide, for a day, and think about, or try to actually have a meal with someone unfamiliar to you.  And no that does not include  your daughters new boyfriend or your son’s new girlfriend, or your daughter’s new girlfriend, or your son’s new boyfriend.  Ok, maybe it does.  Regardless, remember that the first Thanksgiving was one people celebrating with their new immigrant neighbors.  Try to do the same.

© words and picture by Dan DeMarle 2017

John Muir

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“He was not an American. And he encountered Yosemite and he imagined what America could be.  And for a century, we’ve fought about whether we liked his vision or not.   MAN: I like what he said on one occasion where he essentially said, “the enemies of wildness are invincible, and they are everywhere, but the fight must go on and for every acre that you gain, you gain, 10,000 trees and flowers and all the other forest people and the usual unborn generations will rise up and call you blessed.”

From Ken Burn’s The last Refuse – Part of the Series: Ken Burns: The National Parks

© photo by Dan DeMarle 2017

Rapid Cemetery: James Pamment

James Pamment (1843 -1863) was a farmer in Chili who had blue eyes, dark hair, a dark complexion, and was 6 feet tall.

James’ parents, Williams and Elizabeth, were born in England and Ireland, respectively.  Records show that they moved to Canada. Whether they met in Canada or whether they met before they moved to Canada is unknown.  While in Canada they had their first son, James in 1843, their daughter Margaret in 1845, and their son Isaac in 1849.  Between 1849 and 1855 they moved to Chili.  There their daughter, Mary was born in 1856 and their son, William in 1858.

In Chili, the 1860 census reveals that his father was a Day Laborer, while James was a  Farm Laborer.  Army paperwork later refers to him as a farmer. So it maybe that between 1860 and 1861 he had become an owner of a farm, and was no longer just a farm laborer.

Lincoln was elected in 1860.  The Civil War started in 1861.  James Pamment enlisted in the US Army on 8/12/1862 at Rochester, NY.  He was mustered into the 6th Company of the 1st New York Sharpshooters on 9/13/1862.

To be a sharpshooter a man had to be able to pass a rifle tests that included being able to place 10 shots in a circle of 10 inches from 200 yards.

The NY Sharpshooters served in a number of battles, but Mr. Pamment died after the Battle of Fredericksburg but before Chancellorsville.

He was killed in action in Suffolk, Virginia on 4/18/1863 when he was 22 years old.

His mother filed for his pension on 5/1/1882

It appears that James was married before his death.  Newspaper records indicate that Mary A, wife of James Pamment, died on 5/15/1908 at age 62.  She would have been 3 or 4 years younger than James.

Records are unclear, but it appears that both James and his sister, Margaret, are both buried in the Rapids Cemetery in the same family plot.  It is unknown if any other relatives are buried in the family plot.

 

 

The right to bear arms

So the constitution says we have the right to bear arms and to free speech. Now I can talk till I am blue in the face, but if I want to be heard, I have to pay a lot of money to take out advertisements or pay to be self-published. So why don’t we have the government give every citizen a muzzle loader rifle, identical to the one’s they used in the revolutionary war, when they wrote the bleeding constitution. The one’s that fired once, and then took minutes to aim, and you had to make your own bullets.   Then we have assured your right to bear arms.  For anyone who wants more than that, lets say a revolver, they need to pay a million dollars a year.  For an assault riffle, $100 million a year.  The fees would go to pay for health insurance for everyone that does not have one. No-one is denied their constitutional right to bear arms, and we help pay for health insurance. 
© words by Dan DeMarle 2017

Waking children on a cold morning

The cold tries to sneak into our minds.

It creeps like soft,

little

mice feet,

insinuating itself into our psyches.

Whispering stay in, stay in,

stay under your blankets.

But,

the whole gorgeous world awaits.

Only in this moment are you alive.

Yesterday is history, and tomorrow never becomes today.

Oh what fun we will have today.

© words by Dan DeMarle 2017 – Poem originally posted on FB on 11/6/09